My Happy Marriage (LN) - Volume 7 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3  

Watched Over by Cherry Blossoms

The spring forest had begun to sprout with new green.

It was still early for the trees to gain new leaves, and the evergreens were covered in a somewhat gloomy verdure. Even then, patches of grass were sprouting up between the brown dirt and dead leaves, and tiny flowers bloomed, giving a small amount of color to the scenery.

Amid this forest, Kiyoka was slowly pulling Miyo by the hand along a rather hard-to-traverse road made of uneven stone.

“Are you tired?”

Miyo nodded in response to Kiyoka’s question.

Not long after their nighttime conversation, he had easily dispelled the curse that was on her. Despite that, she hadn’t gone back to normal entirely.

I can’t believe its effects are still lingering.

Miyo suppressed her unconscious urge to sigh.

In the process of dispelling the curse, Kiyoka had realized that it was the product of an amateur and was therefore extremely slipshod. Consequently, he hadn’t been able to completely remove it with the dispelling arts.

On top of that, the experience also raised the question of whether Miyo was easily affected by all arts in general, not just curses, or if there was something about her constitution that made their effects linger.

While he couldn’t say for sure, according to Kiyoka, this trait of hers may have stemmed from the sealing arts that had been placed upon her from a young age.

Shortly after Miyo was born, her mother, Sumi, had sealed away her Gift to ensure it wouldn’t be discovered.

The seals placed on her had been so strong that they went unbroken for nineteen years. Kiyoka had said he wouldn’t be surprised if there were some lingering effects from this. Or put another way, she had a quirk that made arts work easily on her.

As a result, there was still a possibility that the curse’s influence could make unexpected verbal abuse come flying out of her mouth.

And so, Miyo was still trying to limit her conversations with Kiyoka as much as possible.

“We’ll arrive after just a bit farther.”

Kiyoka turned around and smiled to try easing Miyo’s worries. Just then, someone asked him a question laced with suspicion.

“This has been bugging me for a while now…Commander Kudou. Miyo has barely said a single thing to you today, hasn’t she? Did you do something to upset her?”

The inquiry belonged to Miyo’s cousin, Arata Usuba, who had finally recuperated from his wounds and been discharged from the hospital. Walking next to him was Miyo and Arata’s grandfather, Yoshirou Usuba.

This forest was located in the Forbidden Land, under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Imperial Household. Right now, they were heading to the graveyard for Gift-users that sat inside its borders—the Burial Grounds.

At Kiyoka’s suggestion, the four of them had decided to visit Sumi Saimori’s grave.

“…………”

Kiyoka kept walking, his words catching in his throat before he glared at Arata.

“That’s a surprise. I take your silence as an affirmation. Did you really make her angry?”

Kiyoka’s grimace deepened as Arata expressed his shock with exaggerated, somewhat theatrical mannerisms.

“…Miyo isn’t keeping quiet because she’s mad at me.”

“So you do admit you made her angry, then,” Arata countered without a moment’s delay, and the wrinkles on Kiyoka’s brow grew ever more furrowed.

Not wanting her fiancé to take the blame for why she wasn’t talking, Miyo turned to Arata and corrected him.

“That’s not it. This isn’t Kiyoka’s fault. Um, there are some extenuating circumstances, so…”

She wanted to keep the hex a secret, if possible. It would be better not to worry Arata or Yoshirou unnecessarily.

At this, Arata glanced at Kiyoka with dubious, half-narrowed eyes.

“Really? Well, whatever it is, it’s enough to keep you from talking to him, isn’t it? I couldn’t help but wonder if the commander had engaged in an affair of some kind.”

“Huh?”

“A-an affair…? Never.”

Unlike Miyo, who tilted her head in confusion at Arata’s completely unexpected conjecture, Kiyoka looked a bit flustered for a brief moment.

Of course, Arata didn’t let this go unnoticed.

“What a suspicious reaction. Miyo, there’s something shady about the commander here, that’s for sure.”

An icy cold smile stretched across her cousin’s handsome face. His eyes looked glassy, like that of a savage predator with its prey in its sights.

A disquieting atmosphere suddenly descended over them.

Kiyoka took a breath and exhaled, as if to quell his unrest, then tightened his grip on Miyo’s hand.

“Kiyoka?”

She didn’t believe he would be unfaithful with her at all.

Between his previous marriage candidates, there wasn’t a total absence of women in his past, but it never concerned or worried her.

Which was all the more reason why Kiyoka’s reaction was so completely unexpected. Despite feeling the warmth of his hand, she grew stiff and tense.

“You’re misunderstanding this. I haven’t ever been unfaithful to Miyo, nor do I intend to be.”

“Hmm?”

Despite Kiyoka’s refutation, Arata stared at him, making no attempt to hide his lingering suspicion.

“So then why did you look so flustered just now?”

“That’s…something I’ll discuss with Miyo later.”

“With me?” she asked.

“Yes. I think it’s something I should probably tell you about.”

While it appeared not to be any sort of infidelity, there was still something after all. Miyo nodded obediently, still not fully sure what he meant.

“Okay.”

“That’s fine then, I suppose.”

Arata instantly grew disinterested. Yoshirou winced at his grandchildren’s exchange.

While they chatted, they arrived at the Burial Grounds.

At first glance, it wasn’t too different from a regular cemetery. Gravestones were lined up in rows across a wide plot of land that opened on a forest clearing.

What drew Miyo’s eyes was the wooden shrine that appeared to be watching over the headstones.

It looked quite old, and although the shrine was obviously being maintained, its wood had gone ashen with age, decaying, splitting, and collapsing in some sections.

However, the shimenawa straw rope and the zigzag shide paper streamers hanging from the eaves still seemed new, albeit with signs of exposure to the elements.

“So this is the Burial Grounds…”

Despite being a totally ordinary graveyard, when Miyo considered that all the people who rested here had either possessed Spirit-Sight, or been Gift-users themselves, a mysterious feeling came over her.

Even if one was born into a Gift-user family, they wouldn’t be buried here if they didn’t have any powers.

As such, Miyo had been totally unconcerned with it until recently. She never expected to even have the opportunity to enter.

“Where was the Saimori family’s gravestone again?” Arata murmured, spinning around to look over the area.

Now that Miyo thought about it, she was the only person here who had any relationship with the Saimoris.

However, it was here that Yoshirou took a step forward.

“This way.”

The Usubas hadn’t been allowed to exist in the open. Miyo had heard that Yoshirou hadn’t even been able to attend his own daughter’s funeral.

But looking at her grandfather’s unwavering footsteps, Miyo surmised that he had probably come here a great number of times before.

At Yoshirou’s guidance, the group continued straight on ahead before reaching the Saimori gravestone.

It was a normal grave. There was nothing special or spectacular about it. A simple resting place consisting of just a headstone with the family name etched into the surface.

The Saimori family grave…

Here was where her mother, and her own Gift-user ancestors, were buried.

She was finally here, twenty years after her birth. Until now, Miyo hadn’t ever been able to visit the grave of her mother.

Her throat grew hot, the inside of her nose stung slightly, and she could feel tears well in her eyes.

Why?

It had been over a decade since her mother’s passing. She felt so pathetic and ashamed to only be visiting her now that she wanted to jump into one of the other graves here.

Why hadn’t she ever been here before?

What in the world had she been doing?

Regardless, Miyo was sure that Sumi, kind as she was, wouldn’t have berated her daughter for disappointing her.

“…I really should have come here so much sooner than this,” Miyo murmured. Kiyoka gently brought her shoulders in close to him, providing her support. The warmth of his large frame slowly thawed Miyo as she stood there, unable to move.

“Right… Sorry for not realizing this sooner.”

“No, it’s not your fault, Kiyoka. After all, no one was allowed to enter here up until recently, right?”

“True, but…”

Last summer, there had been an incident here at the Burial Grounds, where it had been dug up under the emperor’s direction. The grounds were greatly disturbed at the time, and it took until winter to return them to their original state.

Winter itself had been a whirlwind all its own, so it was understandable that Kiyoka hadn’t thought to visit the graveyard. Miyo’s own concerns hadn’t left her any room to think about it, either.

The simple act of visiting a family gravestone was something that Miyo had never experienced before, so she had never thought to come here.

For a few moments, Miyo froze.

However, she eventually managed to regain movement in her body and offered the flowers she had brought in front of the gravestone. Then the four of them silently put their hands together in prayer.

Thank you for always watching over me and protecting me, Mother.

During her time in the Saimori household, after she had left to be with Kiyoka, as well as that vital moment at the Usuba estate when she had awoken to the true power of her Gift.

On all these occasions, surely Sumi had been watching over Miyo, lending her a hand.

Miyo believed that it was her actual mother, not some figment of her imagination, who would appear in her dreams. And that it was because Sumi was watching over Miyo that she would intervene to save her when it was truly necessary.

Even if what remained of Sumi was only her soul or the vestiges of her feelings.

Right now, I am so very happy, Mother.

When Miyo announced this inside her mind, a refreshing sensation spread through her, as if a weight inside her chest had been lifted. Just then, she had a realization.

She had wanted to make this report. To her mother. And tell her that she had been able to survive until now and that she was finally able to live in peace.

She’d wanted to tell her. She’d wanted her mother to praise her. To be pleased.

Though Sumi was no longer with her, Miyo felt that if she prayed like this, knowing that her mother had been watching over her this whole time, her feelings would reach her.

For a long while, Miyo kept her eyes closed and her hands together.

Miyo sent all her thoughts to Sumi and spoke to her until her palms grew warm, then finally she opened her eyes once she felt satisfied.

“I’m sure Sumi is very happy right now,” Yoshirou remarked to no one in particular. He turned to Miyo.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Of course… I’ve taken so long to come here that it’s hard to even face her.”

Miyo candidly revealed the first emotion she had felt, but Yoshirou brushed it off with a smile.

“No, no, that’s certainly not something you need to worry about. Sumi wasn’t one to pay any mind to trivial things like that. She’d just be satisfied to see you smiling, alive and well.”

“I hope you’re right…”

Miyo turned back once more to face the unassuming gravestone.

At this point, Miyo would never be able to truly know Sumi’s feelings regarding the Saimoris or her father. Or whether she was happy to be resting here beneath the Saimori headstone.

I love you, Mother. Thank you so much for all the love you showed me.

Nevertheless, there was no question that Sumi had loved her daughter.

Miyo could only hope that the short period of time they’d shared in Miyo’s early years had been as blessed a time for Sumi as it had been for her.

She hoped it would be the same way for her.

Together with Kiyoka, and with her own child she had yet to meet. If she could please Sumi by protecting them and showing them love, then there wouldn’t be anything she would be happier doing.

With a warm, gentle sensation spreading in her chest, Miyo naturally broke into a smile.

She expressed her final gratitude to her mother, then walked off together with Kiyoka, who had stood by Miyo in silence the entire time before the Saimori gravestone.

Afterward, they paid their respects to the Kudou family, and then the Usuba family gravestones, before the four then started back home.

“Well then, I suppose we can wrap things up here for the time being and meet again later on?”

Miyo and Kiyoka both nodded at Arata’s question.

Later today, there would be a flower-viewing party planned at the Usuba estate.

There was a magnificent cherry blossom tree on their property. But the banquet wasn’t just for taking in the beauty of its new blossoms—it would also serve as an advance celebration of Kiyoka and Miyo’s wedding, and of Arata’s recovery.

Miyo hadn’t asked who had come up with the idea, but given it was taking place at the Usuba estate, it might have, surprisingly enough, come from Yoshirou.

The banquet would be this evening. Miyo was planning on bringing a homemade dish to the event, and she had already finished the prep work for some of the cooking.

“…If there’s any guilt you feel toward Miyo, please make sure to resolve it all by tonight, Commander Kudou,” Arata said, giving a nasal chuckle.

“Shut up. It’s none of your business,” Kiyoka responded, a vein bulging in his forehead.

A vein bulged in Kiyoka’s forehead.

Just then, a brisk breeze blew. The wind rustled the trees of the forest, as if the life beginning to sprout there was speaking out to them.

Miyo felt herself brighten as she listened to Arata and Kiyoka’s back-and-forth, as though all the fetters constricting her had finally been released.

When dusk approached, Miyo and Kiyoka left the house as scheduled.

After coming home from the Forbidden Land and taking a short break, Miyo got to work on a dish that would let her flex her cooking skills together with Yurie.

In the end, she was able to stuff a four-tiered box set with food.

Although the gathering was only for close relatives, there would still be a fair number of people there, so she was certain that even this wouldn’t be enough. Still, the Usubas would be preparing plenty of food themselves, so she didn’t need to worry too much about it. Miyo’s cooking was nothing but a gift to the hosts, a little extra.

Carrying the cloth-wrapped tiered boxes, Miyo sat down in the back seat of the automobile next to Yurie.

“Isn’t this exciting, Miss Miyo? Why, I wonder how long it has been since I last attended a flower viewing.”

“It is. This is my first time attending a flower-viewing party, too, so I really am looking forward to it.”

Yurie had also been invited along to the banquet. She and Miyo were eagerly anticipating the event.

Kiyoka drove the automobile down the roads of the imperial capital before parking in the open area on the Tsuruki Trading property. He had previously gotten permission from Arata to use it as a place to park his car.

The three of them passed beyond the Tsuruki Trading building and entered the Usuba estate.

“Welcome, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Arata was there to greet them with a respectful bow. His friendly smile and elegant mannerisms were just the same as when Miyo had first met him—and when she had been with him at the Burial Grounds.

During the Usui affair, Arata had been placed in a complicated position, and he ended up both suffering heavy wounds and shouldering the crime of taking Usui’s life.

Usui was a criminal abusing his Gift for nefarious purposes, and the Usubas’ role was to pass judgment on such Gift-users.

In other words, Arata had stopped Usui, and as ending the man’s life was within the purview of his duties, he wasn’t actually charged with anything.

Still, it was clear that he had been wounded physically and mentally in the process.

Miyo was still concerned for Arata, and she had regularly visited him when he was in the hospital. By now, it had become a habit of hers to try and gauge how he was doing every time they met.

But Arata…is fine, isn’t he?

He was someone with a firm handle on himself. If anything, he now looked as though a weight had been lifted from him, more so than before he’d gotten involved with Usui.

The same was probably true of Miyo.

She couldn’t say that witnessing Usui’s death hadn’t cast a shadow over her heart.

More than that darkness, however, she felt optimistic. All the problems facing the Usuba family had either been resolved or had a visible path to resolving them.

“Um, Arata. Here.”

Miyo handed him the tiered boxes, and her cousin’s smile broadened even further as he accepted them gently.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to go to the trouble. I’m sure you must be busy with the ceremony so close.”

“Oh, no, I like cooking; it’s a nice breather for me. Although I don’t think I’m any match for the Usubas’ chefs, so it’s a bit embarrassing…”

“Ha-ha-ha. We’ll always welcome your homemade meals, Miyo. We’ve almost finished preparing everything already, so please go straight into the garden.”

With Miyo’s tiered boxes in hand, Arata led them through the entryway to the garden.

There, a large tree covered in pink came into view.

It was still early for full bloom, and only about half the buds were open. Nevertheless, the branches of the tree were tinged with red, and the small open petals here and there were a lovely sight.

It was likely only a handful of days away from full bloom.

“It’s beautiful…”

Miyo was utterly moved by the sight of the flowering cherry blossom tree, the same one that her mother had watched herself while growing up here.

A magnificent tree. A tree with a clearly felt history, surely having lived for a very long time.

Miyo hoped that the cherry blossom tree that would be planted in her and Kiyoka’s garden would grow to be like this. She couldn’t help but daydream about such a future as she looked up at it.

“It’s quite splendid,” Kiyoka murmured next to her in admiration.

Just as the mood began to take a solemn turn, however, the next guests arrived.

“Good evening. Oh, am I late?”

Entering the garden at the direction of one of the Usubas’ servants was Hazuki, along with Tadakiyo and Fuyu.

“Sis.”

“Miyo! Your kimono is absolutely gorgeous. The pink is perfect for flower viewing.”

“Th-thank you very much.”

Miyo grew bashful at Hazuki’s unvarnished praise, and she looked down at the ground.

The kimono she had on was among the first Kiyoka had gifted her. She was especially fond of it because its cherry blossom pattern reminded her of her mother.

Although she had worn it once before, the season changed soon after, and she hadn’t been able to wear it again.

The hairpin she had on was one she had gotten only recently, and it had a crepe flower attached. Miyo felt slightly bashful at the praise but happy all the same.

“Heya, Kiyoka. Doing all right?”

When Tadakiyo approached with a slightly suggestive smile, Kiyoka stiffened, giving a one-word affirmation before looking away.

He appeared to feel awkward about the curse placed on Miyo.

The fact that he hadn’t noticed it himself and had needed his own father, of all people, to point it out must have given him quite the mental shock.

“Really? Glad to hear it.”

Tadakiyo seemed to pick up on Kiyoka’s state of mind, too, judging by the slightly teasing tone of his reply.

“So this is the Usubas’ home, is it? Well, they do have some taste, at least.”

“Honestly, Mother, we’ve come all this way, so can you stop talking like that?”

Hazuki frowned at Fuyu and her typically contemptuous way of speaking. But Fuyu turned a haughty eye to her daughter, wholly unapologetic.

“You can be so mouthy, I swear. Are you sure that’s not why you were divorced and had to move back in with your parents? Such an embarrassment.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Dearest Father, Mother. It is good to see you once more.”

As if to stop Hazuki moments before she exploded in anger, the freshly arrived Ookaito earnestly greeted the couple from behind.

The sudden appearance of Ookaito made Hazuki’s voice catch in her throat, and Tadakiyo and Fuyu also turned their attention to the large and stately man.

“Good to see you, Masashi. You’ve kept in touch, but I wonder when we last were face-to-face together like this.”

“I’m not sure… I am truly sorry that I was unable to come by and greet you at New Year’s.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m sure your family has some misgivings about that. Don’t let it bother you.”

Miyo could tell from Tadakiyo and Ookaito’s back-and-forth that the Kudou family and the Ookaito family maintained a tricky relationship.

“Come, we can’t keep you standing here all night.”

With the conversation reaching a good stopping point, Arata went to show everyone to their banquet seats. Just then, however, a boisterous shriek echoed in from the direction of the entryway.

Arata immediately headed over there. A short while later, he returned with Godou, wearing a slightly worn-out kimono, and—to everyone’s shock—Takaihito, wearing a fashionable suit.

“It’s a wonderful night. Lively and merry. What more could one ask for?”

Everyone present, Miyo included, went to drop to their knees, but Takaihito put a stop to it all.

“As you were. Tonight, I am not a crown prince but a guest of the Usubas. Everyone, please be at ease.”

His words, characteristic of his openhearted personality and in sharp contrast to his otherworldly appearance, made everyone present breathe a sigh of relief and shift their postures back to normal.

In a moment like this, even Fuyu stowed her usual nonstop complaints, behaving not just obediently, but with the elegant and refined graces of a highborn madam.

Mother really is impressive.

Miyo inwardly expressed her respect for Fuyu.

“Prince Takaihito, please allow me once again to welcome you here. I doubt our hospitality can hope to match what you are accustomed to, but please relax and enjoy yourself.”

“I shall do just that,” Takaihito replied with a comparatively gentle expression to Arata’s greeting.

The tension created by Takaihito’s appearance abated, and everyone returned to their friendly conversations once more.

“Was that your scream just now, Godou?” Kiyoka addressed his subordinate, who was lingering as if trying to hide his presence.

“Commander…I didn’t hear anything…about Prince Takaihito being here.”

“I didn’t mention it?”

“Not at all! I ran across him out of the blue and thought my knees were about to give out!” Godou replied indignantly, tears practically in his eyes. The sight was so amusing that Miyo couldn’t help but laugh as she listened beside them.

“Miss Miyo, this isn’t a joke, okay? This here is an example of the commander’s extremely tyrannical behavior.”

“Hee-hee. F-forgive me…”

“Hey. Who’re you calling ‘tyrannical’? Don’t insult me like that.”

Narrowing his eyes in anger, Kiyoka sent a sharp glare at Godou.

“As fun as your banter may be, would you mind taking your seats now that Prince Takaihito has arrived?”

Arata had been the one to interrupt them. The other guests, who had been gathered around the garden entrance, were now all heading toward the table and spread-out quilts set up near the cherry blossom tree.

“Actually, is that guy coming today, too?”

Godou asked this of Arata after the four of them had started walking over. Miyo had an idea as to who this “guy” Godou had mentioned was.

Arata gave Kiyoka’s subordinate a wry smile, immediately understanding what he’d meant.

“Ah, the master of the Tatsuishi family? I invited him as well, of course. He seemed quite excited about the idea, so I would guess he is just running late.”

“That Tatsuishi… I’m always telling him to be on time,” Kiyoka commented offhandedly, to which Godou nodded along with big swings of his head.

“You’re absolutely right! An irresponsible oaf, truly! Though he’s not part of the military, so even after you step down from being commander, you’ll look after him, right? I won’t need to take care of him, will I?”

“…I’m loath to do so, I admit. But I did take him on, so I don’t have much choice.”

“All right!”

Godou was pleased with every ounce of his being; it was truly an amusing sight.

After that, Kazushi arrived safely before Takaihito could lead the toast, and the banquet began.

Both the alcohol and the food the Usubas had prepared were all first-class, and everyone delighted in all the curious Western-style fare.

The dishes Miyo had brought consisted of standards like simmered foods and pickles, yet they proved surprisingly popular, enough that some of the partygoers—men, mostly—started scrambling for them.

This is so much fun.

Miyo didn’t know that a flower-viewing party with people she was close to could be such an exciting affair.

She allowed herself to give in to the pleasant gaiety and relished the merry atmosphere. This alone made her glad she had come, and she thanked Yoshirou and Arata inwardly for planning this occasion.

Takaihito sat in the seat of honor, and as he tipped back his sake cup, he gazed out at the cheerful and merry faces of the banquet participants.

“As I cannot attend the ceremony, this was the perfect opportunity.”

It was in large part thanks to Ookaito that the crown prince had been able to sneak out and attend the party incognito.

Ookaito was partly showing consideration for Takaihito, who, for both security reasons and concern for the precedent it would set, would be unable to attend the wedding of his childhood friend, Kiyoka.

Although Takaihito strived not to let himself get emotional, the casual kindness of those around him permeated his heart.

The Kudous—Tadakiyo, Fuyu, Hazuki, and Asahi, attached to his mother’s hip—were eating and amusing themselves by swapping the occasional jab. Eventually, Ookaito joined them so they could spend time together as a family.

Godou and Kazushi were arguing about this and that topic, from their work to their personal tastes, pouring sake into each other’s cups in an implicit competition to see who could avoid passing out longest.

Miyo was taking bites of her food together with her grandfather, Yoshirou, and her servant, Yurie, enjoying the pleasant conversation. Occasionally, Arata would pop by to join them.

Everyone was watching the flowers, having their fill of food and drink, and chitchatting amicably with one another.

The very peace that Takaihito had sought was there in front of him.

“Prince Takaihito, you’re not bored, are you?”

It was Kiyoka who asked this.

Moments ago, he had been by Miyo’s side watching over her, but somehow, he had managed to sneak on over to Takaihito without him noticing.

“Not in the slightest. I’m having a wonderful time simply watching you all.”

The crown prince had known Kiyoka since childhood, and he had always been exceedingly quiet and unsociable. While he could still show kindness and consideration, he very rarely did so openly.

In fact, Takaihito wondered if Kiyoka had ever deliberately called out to him like this before.

Finding it amusing, he curled his lips ever so slightly into a rare, honest smile.

“As long as you are enjoying yourself,” Kiyoka said.

“You’ve become quite a considerate man, haven’t you?” Takaihito said teasingly. Though he expected Kiyoka to sullenly pout in response, the commander merely cocked his head.

“You think so?” Kiyoka said, not looking particularly perturbed. “That means we have her to thank, don’t we?”

Takaihito couldn’t help but laugh at how calmly his friend was able to give such an honest reply.

Kiyoka’s eyes went wide as he watched Takaihito break into a chuckle despite himself. Alongside him, the other participants also went silent for a moment and gazed at the crown prince in disbelief.

Now that Takaihito thought about it, he hadn’t laughed so openly in quite a while.

As the imperial heir, and as the man meant to control the Gift-users and guide the country, he typically did his utmost to prevent excessive emotion from surfacing on his face.

He believed that was the correct way for the emperor, and the country’s guiding force, to act, and he hadn’t wavered in his conviction.

That being said…

Even with everyone staring at him, Takaihito made no attempt to suppress his laughter.

A little bit of lenience was fine every now and then.

Takaihito still had emotions; he simply tried not to openly show them. And besides, no one would follow a leader bereft of all feelings.

The people believed in him precisely because he possessed a heart of his own.

“Kiyoka.”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations on your marriage. Early though it may be.”

As Takaihito gave his blessing with a smile on his face, Kiyoka broke into a grin himself.

“Thank you very much, Prince Takaihito.”

The crown prince lifted his full cup of sake. Catching his drift, Kiyoka also raised his cup, and the two brought them together in a toast once more.

To celebrate the wedding of Takaihito’s best friend.

Before long, the alcohol took its effect, and the banquet reached its height, with almost half the food gone.

Kiyoka separated himself from the clamor of the party, leaning up against the fence that encircled the garden, taking sips of his drink as he gazed at the cherry blossom tree.

He had never been very accustomed to these lively events.

Kiyoka didn’t mind them, but after spending a fair amount of time in a noisy place, he would suddenly get the urge to escape for some time in quiet.

“Enjoying yourself, Commander?”

After a short while, Arata approached Kiyoka without him noticing.

At this point, Kiyoka wasn’t unsettled by Arata’s behavior, but he’d lost track of how many times he’d marveled at how formidable the man was.

“In moderation.”

Kiyoka didn’t have any fond memories of past flower-viewing parties, where the participants had only ever consisted of irksome social acquaintances.

Compared to those, this banquet was filled only with old and trusted friends, and he had been able to enjoy himself plenty—though he was loath to admit this, and so he had replied with ambiguity.

Arata shrugged lightly before putting about two people’s worth of space between himself and Kiyoka, leaning on the fence beside him.

“…Miyo’s worried about you.”

Deciding he would make sure to say this much to Arata, Kiyoka broached the topic matter-of-factly.

He hadn’t talked about it with her in detail. However, his fiancée had made it clear how anxious she was over her cousin.

The man beside him had surely noticed it himself, and Kiyoka may not have needed to come out and tell him. Still, it didn’t feel right to leave it unsaid.

“I’m thankful for that. I couldn’t be happier to have such a compassionate cousin.”

“It’s because you’re always doing things to make her worry.”

“Ha-ha. I can’t deny that.”

Twisting his mouth in a somewhat self-deprecating smile, Arata looked up slightly.

“Then let me ask you this, Commander: What exactly did you do? The remnants of a curse are lingering on Miyo, but what actually happened?”

“…”

“This isn’t the time to worry about someone else, is it? When I mentioned infidelity, you reacted quite suspiciously as well.”

Right, so this is what Arata came over here to ask me about, Kiyoka thought bitterly.

He was always smiling and always convivial, yet he never let anyone’s unguarded moments escape them. It appeared Arata Usuba was back to normal, his wonderful personality intact.

Kiyoka had thought the conversation had ended after they’d talked at the Burial Grounds, but it seemed Arata wasn’t going to let things drop.

He heaved a sigh of annoyance.

“Like I said, I haven’t done anything unfaithful… However.”

“However?”

“I met a woman who said she was a classmate of Miyo’s from elementary school. And she, well, she made a plea to me in tears. That’s all.”

“Pleaded in tears? Do you mean that she asked you for help, or that she physically clung to you?”

“…Both.”

“Oh my. I see.”

Kiyoka couldn’t see Arata’s face, but he was sure he was wearing quite a grimace. Arata cast a quick sidelong glance and scoffed.

“Quite the disaster, wasn’t it? Touched by another woman, and while it never crossed over into infidelity, your slightly guilty conscience led you to act suspicious, then?”

Kiyoka detected a note of hostility in the air as Arata continued, “I’ve thought this for a while, but you’re quite naive, aren’t you?” He got the feeling he was being mocked.

“You told this to Miyo?”

“I did.”

Following his declaration that they would discuss it later, Kiyoka had reported on what occurred at the station with Miyo’s old classmate, Kimio Nagaba, once they’d returned from the Forbidden Land.

Surprised though she was, Miyo had calmly listened to Kiyoka’s explanation and showed no signs of dismay.

Of course, Kiyoka apologized after he’d finished explaining everything, but Miyo said that it was fine and that it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Though her reaction still managed to make Kiyoka feel a bit empty.

While Miyo hadn’t seemed worried about the possibility of infidelity, it still seemed like something was bothering her after Kiyoka had explained everything. When he pressed her on this, she responded as follows:

“If this is just my misunderstanding, then…I would feel bad for Kimio, but I think my curse might have stemmed from the charm that she taught me.”

Kiyoka conveyed this all to Arata.

“A charm…”

“Right. I asked for the details from Miyo, but that seems to be the extent of it.”

Curses spread by a story were rare but not unheard of. A simple hex, one even an amateur could perform. Due to its simplicity, though, its effects were weak, and it didn’t last for very long—at most a few days.

It truly was just a bit of fun.

As a result, it wasn’t clear if Kimio Nagaba had intended to harm Miyo at all, and even if she had, it was hard to understand exactly what she had wanted to do.

Still, this strange feeling I have. I can’t quite place it.

The wedding ceremony was only a few days away. Though he wanted to participate free of any apprehensions, Kiyoka couldn’t dispel the disquiet in his chest.

“Commander?”

“Sorry, something just doesn’t feel right. Hopefully it’s just my imagination.”

Kiyoka replied to Arata’s questioning tone with honesty. There wasn’t any point in hiding something like this.

The more people taking precautions, the better. If there was still another person working behind the scenes, and if they were a Gift-user or an arts practitioner, then it would involve the Usubas anyway.

“It’s rare to see you seem so unsure of yourself, Commander.”

“…That’s not true.”

However—

It wasn’t that he lacked confidence. It was now clear to him what he needed to protect, and the feeling of dread had grown stronger inside him than before.

Usui was partly to blame as well. If a Gift-user of his caliber were to close in more carefully, with more cunning, then Kiyoka might not be able to protect Miyo. This anxiety followed him everywhere.

Obviously, there weren’t very many villains as strong as Usui around in the first place.

His Gift was perfect for deceiving Gift-users—anyone, really—and defeating them. A more Usuba Gift than any other. He had used it to evade the imperial family, the state, and even the other members of his family until he finally came out in the open and started doing as he pleased.

That was the type of man Naoshi Usui was—the worst possible enemy one could fight.

But now that he was gone, there weren’t any other Gift-users on his level in the country.

Or at least there weren’t any among the Gift-users registered with the government, and it was difficult to believe one might be unregistered, too. It was the exact world that Usui had talked about—where it was growing harder to give birth to Gift-users or those with Spirit-Sight. With their different natures to the vast majority of other people out there, they were quickly spotted when they did appear.

It was nearly impossible for them to remain unregistered.

Even telling myself that, though…I can’t shake this sense of foreboding.

Kiyoka didn’t know what sort of threat might come. There was no guarantee that Miyo would be spared, either.

Usui’s existence had taught this all too well.

“It’s not that I’m unsure of myself. I’m merely focused on reminding myself that I can’t afford to get careless, even after quitting the military.”

“I see.”

Gripping down on his now empty cup, Kiyoka straightened up after leaning against the garden fence.

“Commander.”

“What?”

When Kiyoka turned around at Arata’s address to him, he was greeted with a dauntless smile.

“Do you want to have our promised rematch from last year before the wedding, or after?”

Kiyoka’s breath caught in surprise.

He was right. Back then, when he had first come to the Usuba home, Kiyoka had crossed swords with Arata and lost. Afterward, Arata did say something about having a rematch when Kiyoka was in perfect form.

But until now, Kiyoka had completely forgotten about it.

At this point…or maybe because it’s come to this point, I guess.

Arata seemed to be questioning him with his eyes—Can you protect Miyo? He was trying to see into the innermost depths of Kiyoka’s heart. His fighting spirit, too.

Kiyoka was being tested, challenged.

For a short while, their gazes met. It was a terribly painful moment, one that Kiyoka had experienced before. Arata was challenging Kiyoka’s behavior, silently judging it. This right here would be the last time.

As a man of the sword, Kiyoka was against letting his defeat stand. However…

“I—”

“I was just kidding.”

Arata was first to quell the sharp, stabbing urge for battle that nearly pierced right through Kiyoka.

The commander was left deflated; he’d been seriously bracing himself to engage in their long-awaited rematch. Just then, however, Kiyoka realized that Arata’s eyes weren’t on him anymore but on something behind him, and he followed his gaze.

“Am I bothering you, Kiyoka?”

With the cherry blossom tree shaking in the gentle breeze at her back, Miyo gauged the air between them with a timid look.

She was beautiful, wrapped in her pink kimono and melding with the cherry blossom petals where she stood.

She was delicate and ephemeral. But now she also had a firm, sturdy presence that was far more apparent than it had been a year prior. Miyo looked purer and lovelier than any other.

“No.”

After Kiyoka had given this brief reply, his feet carried him toward her of their own accord, as though he was being drawn in.

Suddenly, a thought that any man would be disgraced to entertain—that he was like a bee being drawn toward a pretty flower—crossed his mind.

But what was so bad about that, really?

“You’re not bothering us. I’ll return to the banquet soon.”

He couldn’t see it, given he had no mirror, but Kiyoka felt his expression soften. He was certain anyone looking on would find it slovenly.

“…A rematch isn’t going to mean anything.”

Kiyoka thought he heard Arata’s faint voice being carried on the wind. He decided to act like he hadn’t.

This would likely be the last time Arata would challenge him. Before long, he wouldn’t need to anymore.

We’re both going to continue forward.

It was pointless to insist on combat. The only thing they could do was keep on moving forward, without looking back.

Kiyoka stood in front of Miyo.

In the past year, her complexion had visibly improved, and she had gained a healthy amount of weight, so her pale skin was now tinged pink.

“I’d like to do my first nighttime cherry blossom viewing with you, Kiyoka.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Illuminated by the glow of the Usubas’ gas lanterns, the garden framed the pink of the cherry blossoms and the black of night with a perfect mix of darkness and light, creating an almost mystical scenery.

“Ah, that reminds me. It think the effects of the curse are growing weaker,” Miyo said suddenly. Indeed, she had managed to express her desire to view the cherry blossom tree with Kiyoka without accidentally saying anything to the contrary.

“I’m glad that the worst of it is over.”

Gently, as if handling a fragile antique, he wrapped his arms around Miyo’s shoulders. When he brought his face close to her hair, a slightly sweet scent filled his nose and swelled in his chest.

“K-Kiyoka! Everyone will see us…!”

He lightly broke into laughter as she turned red from ear to ear and fidgeted in place.

“Then it’s okay as long as no one sees us?”

“Wh-why are y-you asking me something like that?!”

Her straight black hair and her gorgeous black saucer eyes. Her smooth cheeks and her tiny lips. The more he stared at Miyo, the lovelier she became. His affection toward her grew stronger and bubbled over.

He recalled the very first time he had seen her break into a broad smile.

Back then, he wouldn’t have imagined for a moment that the day would come when he felt such love for this young woman.

However, Kiyoka was sure that even those emotions he’d held back then, though far, far weaker than now, were the same feelings of affection. So perhaps things were always going to end up this way.

“Miyo.”

When he gently whispered her name into her ear, Miyo stopped fidgeting and looked up at Kiyoka with eyes that were slightly resentful yet still filled with love.

“Is it all right if I touch you?”

“…You’re already doing that…”

“No, I mean more. I don’t mean here. Just, from where we left off…”

To speak any more specifically would be putting his desire out on display, and he hesitated. Nevertheless, Miyo seemed to have understood what he meant.

Perhaps at this point, she was no longer completely naive and innocent, either.

Miyo averted her eyes and nodded ever so slightly. She was too adorable for Kiyoka to bear.

I’m mortified by how giddy my thoughts have been.

If someone else could peer inside Kiyoka’s brain, they would, without exception, become disillusioned with him and show him disdain.

“But.”

Miyo looked up at Kiyoka once more, her cheeks flushed.

“C-can you wait until after we’re married…?”

“Of course. I’d like to think I have at least that much common sense.”

As he spoke, though, Kiyoka suddenly came to his senses. Was there a chance that he had come off as so greedy that she had started to question if he even possessed a basic degree of decency?

I need to be prudent.

He couldn’t endure being seen as a vulgar man who lacked composure. His arm still across Miyo’s shoulders, Kiyoka continued to reflect on himself.

The day had been mild, with soft spring sunrays and a thin cloud cover.

Evening was approaching, and the sun was just beginning to set. Miyo went into the living room, finished taking in the laundry, and saw Kiyoka inside.

It was the day before their wedding ceremony.

After tomorrow, Miyo and Kiyoka would at last become husband and wife. She would go from being Miyo Saimori to Miyo Kudou.

Naturally, she found herself totally unable to relax, and her housework was the only thing that kept her mind at peace.

But I feel like that’s not entirely it, either…

There was a vague anxiety and disquiet in her chest. For the past few days, an unplaceable foreboding—not merely nervousness about the ceremony—had hung around her incessantly.

What is it? I wonder.

Kiyoka had made sure to take today and the next several days off from work, and he was at the house getting ready for the wedding. However, he was gazing outside at the moment, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

Perhaps Kiyoka feels it, too?

Nevertheless, it was terribly difficult for her to put this nebulous sensation into words. Miyo didn’t think consulting about it with Kiyoka would give her any answers, so she kept quiet about it.

As long as she didn’t fully understand it, the only thing she could do was to act like normal.

Miyo called out to Kiyoka.

“What would you like for dinner?”

“Good question…”

Kiyoka turned his gaze sluggishly to Miyo, though he didn’t appear to be wholly absentminded.

“Something hearty and filling to help us get ready for tomorrow.”

Seeing Kiyoka’s nearly expressionless visage soften, Miyo sighed with relief.

The unrest inside her didn’t disappear, but his smile put her mind at ease.

“Got it. I’ll make a lot of rice and plenty of dishes to go with it!”

Kiyoka nodded at Miyo’s enthusiastic response.

Tomorrow morning would be the last time she set out food on the dinner table as his fiancée. That being said, even if she made plenty of food the next morning, they probably wouldn’t be able to eat much.

So tonight, she was going to make more food than they could possibly finish or that she could even lay out on the table.

Maybe my anxieties will go away if I fill myself up.

But just as Miyo psyched herself up and was about to start making dinner, a small white object glided in through the window and landed in the room.

“A familiar? It’s from someone in the unit.”

Kiyoka grabbed the paper familiar out of the air and tried to deduce who had sent it.

When he did, the communication device began eloquently talking on its own.

“Commander, we’ve got an emergency. Come to the station as soon as you get this… We have discovered a dangerous cursed relic. It’s too much for us to handle on our own.”

Miyo recognized the voice. It belonged to Mukadeyama, one of the squad leaders of the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit who Miyo was acquainted with.

While the familiar had spoken in his characteristic coolheaded tone, even Miyo could pick up a hint of exasperation and uncertainty in his voice.

Kiyoka acted quickly.

He nimbly rose to his feet and rushed to his room to get himself ready.

As he did, Miyo could do little more than stand dumbfounded and stock-still in place. Her hearth pounded with an unending and unnerving thud.

However, she quickly came to her senses, turned on her heel, and made for the kitchen.

An emergency situation and a trip to the station at this hour meant Kiyoka would mostly likely not get to eat dinner until later.

I need to make something that can fill him up fast.

Given she was only now starting to prepare their meal, she didn’t have much of anything on hand. While she had the stir-fried and simmered vegetables and the pickles she’d served at lunch, along with cold rice, she wouldn’t have time to reheat them again.

She couldn’t ask for too much in times like this.

Miyo placed the leftovers in as many lunch boxes as she could find, forced the lids on the containers, and wrapped them up.

“Kiyoka.”

When she returned to the living room, Kiyoka was changed into his military uniform and fully ready to leave for work. A hint of sadness flickered in his lightly colored eyes.

His shapely lips were pursed tight, and his brow was furrowed in a frown.

“I’m sorry, Miyo. I’ll do what I can to get back here fast.”

“No, please, don’t apologize.”

Miyo shook her head. She couldn’t let Kiyoka fuss over her. She needed to be resolute as she saw him off.

“Give work all you’ve got. If you happen to have a spare moment, please eat this to keep yourself full.”

“Thank you.”

When she handed over the wrapped-up boxed dinner, Kiyoka accepted politely, as he always did before leaving for work. It was the same scene that played out every morning between them, yet an incessant commotion still stirred in her chest.

“It pains me that they’re just the leftovers from lunch…”

“I don’t mind. I’m grateful for any nourishment I can get.”

Kiyoka’s smile also seemed to waver with restlessness, perhaps because it was colored by the evening sun.

It’s okay. It’ll be fine. If I come off as anxious, I’ll be getting in the way of Kiyoka’s duties, so I need to remain calm.

Though it may have been an emergency, that didn’t necessarily mean Kiyoka would spend a long time at work. Just in the past year, this hadn’t been an unusual occurrence, and he usually attended to time-sensitive matters with surprising speed.

The situation just felt especially pressing because it was the day before their wedding.

“Be careful, and good luck at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll be off.”

Giving her usual good-bye, Miyo watched Kiyoka walk toward the entryway. Nevertheless, Miyo grew restless and went after him.

“Kiyoka.”

When she called out to him, he came to a sudden halt.

“Please, don’t get hurt. And I don’t want you doing anything dangerous… I’ll be waiting here for you patiently and making sure I’m mentally ready to make tomorrow’s ceremony a success.”

Her words sped up and ran together. Alarm bells blared in her heart, and her breathing grew labored.

In all honesty, she didn’t want to be away from him. She wanted to spend a relaxing night with Kiyoka before the ceremony. However, it no longer seemed this wish of hers would be granted.

She couldn’t help but feel sad about this, and she felt her eyes starting to get warm.

Crying here and putting Kiyoka in a difficult spot would be the worst possible thing for her to do as his fiancée. Miyo lowered her eyes to prevent her tears from overflowing and desperately gritted her teeth.

Her palms, clenched tightly into fists, felt hot enough to burst into flames.

“Miyo.”

The next thing she knew, Kiyoka was standing right in front of her. Then, with a gentle caress, he took Miyo’s fist in his hand.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure nothing obstructs the ceremony. I’m looking forward to it more than anyone, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want us to become husband and wife as soon as possible.”

So I’ll finish up work in a flash and come back home.

Kiyoka’s strong declaration made her tears vanish in an instant.

“I do, too,” she said, nodding with a heartfelt smile on her face.

Even after Kiyoka had driven off, Miyo stood at the doorway until she could no longer hear the sound of the engine.

In the end, her anxieties didn’t completely dissipate.

The ominous foreboding haunting the recesses of her mind, and the uneasiness in her chest—this situation might have been the source of it all.

However, her belief in Kiyoka was much greater, much stronger than those feelings, and even if he wasn’t at her side, he would still support Miyo as if she were safely wrapped up in his arms.

“Tomorrow is bound to become the happiest day of my life, Kiyoka.”

A loud gust of wind blew through. As if being pushed by the gale, which contained both warmth and chill, Miyo went back inside.

She couldn’t let herself stand there frozen forever.

In the kitchen, she would make a large meal that would be ready no matter how early Kiyoka came back home. It would be filling and hearty fare, just as he’d requested, more than the two of them could ever finish by themselves.

She readied four servings of rice.

In a large pot, she simmered a heaping portion of root vegetables and a pork soup with plenty of nutritious ingredients. Salt-grilled fish, tempura, and fried tofu.

Then she crushed steamed potatoes to make croquettes, and instead of frying eggs, she mixed them with diced onion to make an omelet.

She remained fully concentrated on her cooking, without a moment’s rest, and by the time she piled the food on large plates and readied more dishes than she could fit on the serving tray, the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and it was pitch-black outside.

“It’s already gotten so late,” she murmured, despite no one being around to hear it. The living room, illuminated by an electric lamp, was filled with countless dishes whose aromas deliciously wafted into the air.

At times like these, Miyo would usually finish her meal without waiting for Kiyoka to return.

But…

Something didn’t seem right about eating on her own tonight, and she wavered. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up her chopsticks.

After Miyo had sat staring at the dinner laid out in front of her, she slowly got up, opened the sliding screen, and stepped out onto the veranda.

Cooled by the night breeze, she looked up at the deep indigo sky and gazed at the hazily glowing moon.

Miyo closed her eyes. Filling her lungs with the spring air, she breathed in and out several times before she quietly returned to the living room and picked up her chopsticks.

She would finish eating quickly and go to sleep. She needed to keep her strength up for tomorrow, too.

Despite how much effort she had put into making everything, Miyo was dreary and worried as she forced down her meal. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t feel at ease without having Kiyoka sitting across the dinner table from her as usual.

And so Miyo spent the night before her wedding alone—and the morning after that, too. In the end, Kiyoka never came back home.